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Oh, spare me. I know exactly what you’re thinking right now. Here’s another college student with a Crosley and a few bucks to spare at the record shop. Naw, I don’t have a Crosley. Anymore.

Right now, I’m running a Mitsubishi linear tracking turntable where the ground has been jerry-rigged onto the pre-amp and the belt seems a little loosey goosey. It’s all attached to a Yamaha for the stereo and a couple of 90s Bose speakers, making my current setup. Currently I have Bloom side A playing and I’m set to throw on Animals.

My collection ranges from old and new, with a heathy dose of Led Zeppelin, Vampire Weekend, Tame Impala, MGMT, Neil Young, Bob Dylan and a decent amount of Miles Davis. The annoying part where I drop band names is over. You can breathe now.
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Welcome to Behind the Bar, where I will be taking you on a journey of coffee, tea, customer service and stolen tip jars. What qualifies me to be your guide? I worked for a whole year at a coffee shop in downtown Phoenix (Impressive, right?). If you’re thinking Starbucks, you should stop right now.

When I was a budding, bright-eyed freshman, I got a job at Fair Trade Cafe (FTC), Phoenix’s premiere organic and fair trade certified coffee shop. I didn’t know this at the time, of course, but I grew to love this place as a second home. My co-workers are gracious, hard-working and lovely ladies, and I’m sure we all have countless stories I could tell you.

Now, I’m a sophomore in the journalism program at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism, focusing in print and multimedia. This is my first semester writing for State Press Magazine, so I’m excited to have an actual audience to write for, unlike my sad little personal blog. I am a self-admitted coffee-hater and a self-proclaimed tea expert. In the next 16 or so weeks, I hope to give you knowledge and laughter. I hope my strange exploits behind the bar (Get it?) at FTC will be as funny, weird, entertaining, quirky and touching to you as they were to me.
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The saying that those with whom you surround yourself has a direct impact on you is just as apparent as the notion that the environment in which you live has a direct correlation with the life you choose to live.

My friends and I recently decided to take a well-needed road trip to Flagstaff. The trip came after realizing I had begun to fall into the funk of an ill-balanced pattern of living. My emotions were all over the place, finding myself feeling sad, happy, and everything in between. I had slowly but surely began to loose sight of the important things and focus on the things of little matter. And most disappointing, I had begun to allow other’s view of me to affect the view of myself.
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Music has lent itself to some of the most classic television moments. With the power to evoke emotion, comes the responsibility for producers to execute and style scenes in dramatic fashion. At times, all it takes is minimal dialogue between characters layered with emotional melodies or appropriate lyrics.

The last few seasons of How I Met Your Mother were especially relatable, demonstrating that friends – no matter the size of the circle – change and move on. Leaving for a new city, falling in love or starting a family are all life events that can move outlying relationships apart for better or for worse.
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In 1983, Michael Jackson released what would prove to be his crowning achievement. MTV’s very first world premiere video, Thriller, debuted and single-handedly altered the landscape of music videos. Directed by John Landis and produced as a short film, Thriller clocks in just over 13 minutes and leads viewers through a chilling fantasy filled with an atypical love story, the supernatural and living dead. Flamboyant makeup, ornate costume design and Vincent Price’s sepulchral articulation illustrate the eerie setting and add to the video’s theme of fright, horror and awe. Jackson’s iconic red and black leather jacket is still easily recognizable today. While the early days of MTV ushered in music videos merely the length of the tune and lacked much pomp, Thriller paved the way for future artists and encouraged entertainers to explore a more creative side to an otherwise cookie-cutter industry.

As a young girl, I remember gathering in the family room and settling in to watch the mega-premiere. Despite being a young age then, I have vivid memories of hiding behind our couch afraid that a cemetery somewhere nearby was coming alive with the dead peeking out from their eternal dirt nap. The fact that zombies were performing elaborate dance sequences did nothing to ease my fears (although admittedly apropos, the moves are a fantastic nod to classic horror film monsters.) Thanks in part to my wild imagination as a child, watching the undead circle Jackson and his date to the sound of shuffling feet and unearthly moans sealed the deal for me: This was quite possibly the most terrifying 3 minutes of a toddler’s life. Enough so, that I can recall with such clarity today. Let’s not forget Jackson morphing into both a werewolf and zombie himself. No thanks, I’ll pass!

Of course, we didn’t have fancy technology such as DVR or even Direct TV for that matter; some families lacked basic cable. However, Jackson had a penchant for creating a buzz around his projects and Thriller was no different. Anyone with bare interest made sure to be in front of a television, with cable, the evening of December 2, 1983. Eyes glued to the screen, we watched as Jackson pioneered his way into our homes and exhibited his capacity to engross and enthrall th a timeless piece of work. Except for kids like me, you know, who cowered behind their parent’s couch.
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Ah, Halloween. The time of year when kids terrorize the neighborhood on a mission to procure as many sugar-laden goodies as they can; the time of year when grown adults wear anything that will distance themselves from their everyday persona (no, you are not a sexy butterfly, we know that.) It’s a holiday which we love to get together and throw down the best way we know how: with great friends and plenty of good tunes. You provide the party people, I’ll provide the music:

Just remember to party safely. Uber and Lyft are your friend!
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I’ve always found revolution to be inspiring. Brightly colored slogans slashed across stark white picket signs and empowered activists chanting as they march — it’s overwhelming in the best way. There’s nothing more awe-inspiring then people who are passionate about their beliefs and act for change.
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When school overwhelms me and my senses, I try to clear my head with slam poetry. I know I’ve said this many times before, but listening to this poetry is reminiscent of comfort food. It feeds my soul and reminds me that I’m not alone.

“My mother taught me this trick,” professional slam poet Phil Kaye said. “If you repeat something over and over again, it loses its meaning.”
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